


A Battle of Weapons and Words

by The_Muses_of_Mars



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 20:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9289127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Muses_of_Mars/pseuds/The_Muses_of_Mars
Summary: Gladio takes things a little too far with Noct during training, and Ignis gives him a piece of his mind. Rating for violence and strong language. (Implied Ignis x Noct.)





	

_Clang!_

Gladio’s broadsword came crushing down on Noct’s. The prince didn’t have nearly his sparring partner’s strength, and even while gripping his own weapon with two hands, he was unable to repel the strike, which caused the tip of his wide blade to smash against the training room floor. Noct growled in fury as perspiration beaded along his hairline and dampened his dark bangs. He let go of the weapon in frustration and it broke apart like ice crystals and dissipated into nothing.

The older man frowned at him in disappointment. “A big weapon like that’ll leave you wide open,” he warned, not for the first time. “Try another!”

Noctis glared back at him. “Ever think about taking your own advice?” he retorted. He flung his hands out to his sides, and twin daggers were suddenly in his grip, bidden by the magic of his bloodline. He lunged and slashed at Gladio, who was caught only slightly off guard. The prince’s trainer couldn’t block Noct’s swings with his greatsword, but he was able to step back out of the way in plenty of time to save himself from being sliced to ribbons.

“Try again!” Gladio barked.

Noctis threw the daggers away, shattering them into oblivion. Then he vanished, warp-striking Gladio with a conjured katana.

Gladio was able to block the surprise attack with his own blade this time, then in relatliation he used all his might to force the boy back, sword against sword, sending the prince careening across the floor.

And on it went.

From a balcony wing above the training room, Ignis Scientia watched the bout with clammy hands. Although he himself had been expertly trained in the art of combat, for the very same purpose of protecting the prince, he had never watched the youth at practice before. It was only after overhearing some palace gossip about Prince Noctis’s instructor, Gladiolus Amicitia, having it out for the boy that he decided to observe one of their sessions to see for himself what the man was about. The rumor was that Gladio was itching to tear the teen a new one, as it were, and Ignis was not about to let that happen.

Considering their distinct size difference, it should have been a relief to see that Noct was holding his own against his brawny coach. But every swing Gladio took was powerful and deliberate, and it was clear his intent was not to be blocked or dodged, but to land a hit. And Noct was barely preventing that from happening, warping out of reach at the last second or scarcely defending against heavy blows that nearly forced him to his knees. Gladio was not going easy on the boy just because of his youth or station, but whether that made him a good mentor or a genuine threat to the prince’s safety remained to be seen. Still, it was harrowing to watch two skilled combatants fighting with such vehemence—especially when one of them was the Crown Prince of Insomnia.

Gladio was beginning to wear Noctis down. By now the boy’s hair was dripping with sweat, his black T-shirt clinging to his lithe frame like a second skin. But he wasn’t the only one getting a rigorous workout; the older man had long since tossed his own shirt aside, and his chest and back gleamed with the perspiration of his exertions. However, Gladio’s speed wasn’t slacking and his strength wasn’t letting up, while Noctis was panting hard and spending more and more time warping to safe distances just to catch his breath, doing a great deal more defending than attacking. But his abuse of his regal powers was clearly grating on Gladio’s nerves, and the next time the prince warped out of hiding behind one of the great stone pillars surrounding the room and got within range, Gladiolus cast his blade aside and with his bare hands made a grab for the boy’s throat.

Noct’s eyes went wide as he found himself lifted up off the ground by Gladio’s massive arms. He tried prying the man’s fingers off his neck with his own and kicked out with his legs, his eyes wide with shock.

Ignis had seen more than enough. “NOCT!” he screamed, his voice reverberating throughout the hall.

Gladio was so startled he dropped the prince to the ground. Noct hit the marble tile with an audible _thunk_ , then rolled himself over and rose to his hands and knees before finally staggering to his feet.

Ignis raced down the stairs from the second floor as fast as he could, then rushed to the prince’s side. “Highness! Are you badly hurt?” he asked quickly, reaching out to help steady the boy.

Noctis coughed so hard he nearly retched. “What the hell was that?” he demanded hoarsely of Gladio.

Gladiolus bent and retrieved his broadsword. “Those fancy tricks won’t save your ass in a real fight,” he growled. “You need to quit screwing around and get your head in the game!”

“This is no game!” Ignis bristled. “Clearly this was a real fight—one you were determined to win, even if you had to kill His Highness in the process.”

The taller man’s expression darkened. “Now, just a goddamned minute…”

“Ignis…” Noct put a hand on the blond’s shoulder and tried to pull him back.

Gladio stepped forward menacingly. “Just who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?”

“Ignis!” Noct gripped the man’s shoulder more tightly, trying to get his attention.

But Ignis wasn’t backing down. “This training session is over, and I intend to file a complaint with His Majesty that will ensure it is your last.”

Gladio folded his arms across his massive chest, narrowing his gaze darkly at Ignis. “Is that a threat?”

“It is a fact,” Ignis replied firmly, pushing his glasses up his nose. If he was even slightly intimidated by Gladio’s posturing, it didn’t show.

“Ignis, chill.” Noct sighed. He knew how intense things got in the heat of a battle, even during training. Gladio had startled him, sure, and being choked like that had hurt, and the attack might even leave a bruise; but Gladio was the strongest opponent the prince had ever known, and it was his personal goal to take him out sometime. And if Noct managed to do that, then he’d know he could face any challenge and win.

Ignis whirled around to face the prince. “But, Your Highness—!”

Noct shook his head and gave a shrug. “It’s fine. We cool, Gladio?”

Gladio was still frowning, but he accepted the prince’s proffered fist-bump before he turned and headed for the bench where he had left his shirt and a clean towel.

Ignis was bewildered. “Highness, he _assaulted_ you!” he said with barely-controlled anger, following the prince back to his own corner of the room. “That man is a danger to your person, and I won’t allow this misconduct to go unpunished!”

Noct slipped off his practice gloves, giving his fingers a stretch before reaching for his water bottle. He uncapped it and took a thirsty guzzle. “Ignis,” he said, once he’d downed half the bottle’s contents, “this is just what happens when we spar. He pisses me off, I make him mad…then when it’s over, we’re friends again.” He licked the moisture from his lips and recapped his drink. “Don’t make problems for him; he’s a good guy, he’s just…aggressive.”

“Aggressive, indeed!” Ignis fretted as he eyed the red marks lining the prince’s throat. “If…if I hadn’t stopped him when I did—”

Noct shook his head. “He’d have let me go…eventually.”

The prince was wholly apathetic, which only distressed Ignis all the more. “I was…concerned,” he quietly confessed. “If anything happened to you, I… I don’t know what I’d do.”

Noctis gave the older man a smile. “You worry too much. But, thanks, Iggy. It’s good to know you care.”

The prince headed out of the training hall carrying his water bottle, making his way toward the showers. Ignis watched him go with an ache in his chest. “I do care, Noct,” he murmured, “more than I dare ever say.”


End file.
